


It's a Kind of Magic

by Karasu888



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Blood Bond, Blood Magic, Dubious Consent, M/M, will update tags as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 20:24:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karasu888/pseuds/Karasu888
Summary: A blood bond, normally established between Master and prized slave, infects Dorian and Kestrel's relationship.  Saving Kestrel and his Clan from Tevinter slavers had consequences.  Now they must work together to break the poisonous, magical connection between them before Dorian does irrevocable harm to the love of his life.If you prefer to read in order, please see below:1. Retreat from Haven2. Captured3. It’s a Kind of Magic (WIP - partially posted)4. Demon Dreams5. Keep Moving Forward6. Time Past (WIP - currently posting)





	It's a Kind of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started this for the LoveDorianWeek2018 back in September. Obviously, I didn't make it, lol. Instead, I figured while I crank away at my next update for Time Past, I would give you all something else to read.
> 
> I'm not sure when I'll finish this but it is planned!
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

Why was it always so blastedly cold in this hallway?  Oh, maybe it had something to do with the fact that half of the walls were missing!  Cold mountain air breezed through the opening, stirring the already frigid air.  Sunlight filtered through the broken stone, providing more light and meager warmth then the torches buttressing the massive oak door that led to the War Room.

For probably the tenth time, Dorian glanced at the doorway.  Kestrel and his advisors were beyond having their daily meeting.  He’s be in there with him if Cullen hadn’t made it crystal clear his presence was not welcomed.  So he was regulated to guarding the door, waiting like an obedient lap dog for its owner to come home.

He scoffed with the thought.  Altus Pavus at anyone’s beck and call was not something he would’ve thought possible just several months ago but Kestrel had changed that.  He’d changed everything.  Dorian knew he was falling for the elf.  _Kaffas_!  If he was honest with himself - an idea he rarely liked to entertain - he was already in love with him even though he hadn’t spoken the words out loud.

Hopefully they’d stay together long enough to vocalize their feelings for one another.  This blood bond between them was straining their relationship.  With the thought of the spell, the pit of his stomach ached with hunger.  Odd, he’d already had his first meal.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned against the wall to the right of the doorway.  The movement tugged the healing scar tissue on his back and he reached around to rub away the tenderness.  He’d prefer to never be stabbed again, that was for sure.

The events of several weeks ago still haunted him.  When Kestrel’s Clan was kidnapped by Tevinter slavers, the blame fell squarely on him.  That still irked him even though he had nothing to do with them locating Kestrel’s people.  Sure, Kestrel had apologized but they’d yet to discuss the underlying lack of trust.  Always in need of proving others wrong, he set off by himself to locate the missing elves.  When he’d tracked them down, he arrived just in time to see his beloved Kestrel being manhandled by the leader of the gang.

He’d managed to free him but not without first enslaving Kestrel to him and getting stabbed in the back.  Trust issues, for sure.

“Cullen, I said I’ve had enough!”  Kestrel’s voice was loud enough to carrier through the thick wooden door.  If the normally soft-spoken elf was shouting, something as seriously wrong.

Decision made, Dorian stormed into the War Room.

Kestrel leaned against the table, palm flat on its surface while he rubbed the bridge of his nose.  Cullen hovered nearby, clearly concerned, only sparing a quick glance in his direction at his interruption.

“These headaches…” Kestrel muttered.

Closing the distance, Dorian curled his arm around his waist, doing his best to ignore the soft, pleased groan he made when he buried his face against his shoulder.  “Much better…”  In that moment, he knew he would do whatever was necessary to work through their issues.  He couldn’t stand to lose Kestrel.  Kestrel belonged by his side.  His fingers tightened around the elf’s waist, protective and possessive.  Why did he smell so wonderful?  Not that he was complaining but it was distracting.

“It’s getting worse,” Leliana commented.

“Last week they were able to be on different sides of the keep,” said Cullen with a frown.

“Yes, and the week before that, they were on different sides of Skyhold without any issues.”

Dorian stroked Kestrel’s back as he chimed in, “It makes sense, really.”

Everyone’s attention turned towards him.

“By this time, if he were a slave in Tevinter, he would either be completely trained and by his Master’s side constantly or he would be dead.  The blood bond spell, from what I understand, is only used on the most prized of slaves.  The ones you wouldn’t want out of your sight.”

“So you two will have to be joined at the hip, permanently?” asked Josephine, already puzzling through how this would impact diplomatic relations.

“That is impractical.  We can’t have a Tevinter mage-”

“Altus, Cullen,” he corrected.  “No matter what you uneducated southerners may believe, they are separate designations.  All Altus’ are mages while very few mages are Altus’.”

Cullen huffed with frustration before continuing.  “-shadowing the Inquisitor wherever he goes.  It will look suspicious and we’ll lose the tentative trust we’ve fought for so far.”

“I doubt Dorian wants to be following me wherever I go, either,” mumbled Kestrel, face still nestled against him, seeking refuge.

Dorian’s fingers ran up Kestrel’s back and through his hair, tempted to pull him even closer.  “Oh, I don’t know, _amatus_.  It’s not so terrible.  Although I do worry we’ll tired of constantly having to be in each other’s presence.”

“It sounds like we only have one option.”  Leliana held up a finger.  “We break the spell.  From what you’ve said, Dorian, this requires blood magic.  A blood mage willing to offer their assistance will be hard to find, especially one familiar with a Tevinter slaver spell.”

Cullen nodded in agreement.

“Oh!” Josephine exclaimed, raising her hand with a request to speak. 

Leliana allowed a small smile to break her stern features as she gestured for her to proceed.

“We do have another option.”

Pulling away from Dorian but staying within his personal space, Kestrel cocked his head and asked, “Another option?”

“You two could get married.”

“Marriage...?” Kestrel squeaked, eyes wide.  He shifted further away, gaze dropping to the floor, arms crossed over his chest.

 _That_ smarted.  Sure, their relationship was still in its infancy several months in, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to entertaining the idea, however brief.  Besides, it would ensure Kestrel was his for eternity.  Dorian frowned to himself.  Where had that thought come from?

Leliana and Cullen missed their change in posture, staring at Josephine as if she’d sprouted a second head.

Now was not the time to address Kestrel’s reaction.  Wrapping his defensive mantel of confidence around him, he asked, “Pray tell, just how do you see that working?”  This he had to hear.

“It’s common for a spouse to remain by his significant other, no?  That would explain away your constant presence.  As for the Tevinter part, we could have you publicly renounce your ties to your homeland.  That would restore faith in the Inquisition.  Perhaps even earn us a boost by converting a Tevinter of the Magisterium over to our side,” she spoke quickly, hands clasped in front of her as she struggled to contain her excitement.

Tevinter was always the villain.  They supported slavery, propagated blood mages, and thought itself above the rest…alright, perhaps he could understand where they were coming from.  Still, to ask such a request from him, Dorian started to protest, “I-”.

“I would never make him do that, Josie.  For all its faults, Dorian still cares for his country.  We can’t ask that of him,” Kestrel butted in, adamant.

“Besides, I doubt our supporters would appreciate a leader who couldn’t birth his own heir.  There are too many flaws in you second option which directs us back to the first plan.  Break the spell.”

Kestrel swayed closer to him again, unaware of his fluctuating proximity.  “Then we’re back to the main problem.  Where do we find a blood mage?”

Maker, he smelled amazing.  He didn’t notice he was leaning in until their arms bumped.  Right, where were they?  “I’ll do it,” Dorian said, proud with how calm he sounded.

“What?”  Kestrel turned to him, frowning.  “I know your stance on blood magic and I won’t make you compromise your ideals for me.  That’s not an option.”

“Kes, I’m likely the only option we have.  If I think about it logically, well…it’s magic.  There’s…”  He straightened his back against his deepening look of disapproval, pulling on his false certitude.  “…nothing inherently wrong with it.  So long as I use my own blood, of course.”

“Dorian-”

“I don’t like it but I agree that this is our best solution, Inquisitor,” said Cullen.  Coming from the former templar, that spoke volumes.

Kestrel looked for support with Leliana and Josephine but the former nodded her head in agreement while the latter frowned and looked away.

No opposition presented, he spoke up, “Then it’s settled.  I will ramp up my research and find a solution by week’s end.  I have a few spells I’ve found that I believe can be adapted our needs.”

He’d never worked with blood magic before but he needed to remain objective and not let his personal opinion cloud his abilities.  He excelled at magic in general and, though the primary ingredient was distasteful, it was, in the end, just another kind of magic.  What could go wrong?

* * *

 

 

Kestrel rounded on him as soon as they made it up the stairs in his room, jabbing a finger into his breast, face flushed with fury.  “What in the Fade are you thinking, Dorian?  Blood magic?  A wrong won’t right another wrong!”

“ _Amatus_ , we’re out of options.  Unless you’ve had a change of heart on getting married.”

That deflated his anger immediately.  Betrayal leaked from his glare with such a low blow but he retreated to his desk without comment. 

Dorian suppressed the urge to grab his wrist as he walked away.  How dare he leave his side.

Palms planted flat on its surface, he hunched over it as he whispered, “Why?”

Dorian almost didn’t hear the question, so lost in his possessive thoughts.  “…why what?”

“You’re willing to compromise one of your most basic ideals to help me.  Why?”  He looked up, blue eyes bright beneath a wall of water, threatening to break free.  Before Dorian could answer, he blurted out, “I didn’t even trust you when it mattered.  Yet you still risked your life to save me from the slavers.  Now you’re ready to risk everything again to help me.  Why?”

Now would be the perfect time to say those damnable three words.  They would explain everything.  _I love you_ , he thought but when he opened his mouth, no words came out.  He’d never confessed his love for anyone.  Maker, he hadn’t felt the same about anyone else _but_ Kestrel. 

Why was it so hot in the Inquisitor’s room?  Why was his throat suddenly parched?  Even if he tried to speak in this moment, he wasn’t sure any sound would come forth.  But if Kestrel didn’t trust him implicitly, could he even return his love?  What if he vocalized his feelings and was rejected.  That thought alone froze him. 

That thought alone left him gaping like a fish out of water, unresponsive and trapped in his own thoughts.

The next thing he knew, a string of elven curses rang through the air.  When he focused on Kestrel, he found him clutching his hand to his chest, crimson dripping steadily from the bottom of a tight fist.  All musing thrown aside, he rushed to the elf’s side, concern overwhelming all else and also a tad eager for something tangible to focus on.

“Kes!  What happened?” he asked, cradling his wounded hand in his.  As his fingers touched his flesh, magic was already pouring forth, healing the deep gash in his palm.  A pool of blood remained behind, shiny and bright.

“I left a dagger out and accidentally hit it with my hand.”

“I’m always telling you to put those things away before someone get hurts,” muttered Dorian, gaze fixated on the red puddle.  It called to him and he wondered what Kestrel’s blood would taste like.  Before he could even process the absurdity and questionable taste of the thought, he lowered his head and, tongue extended, lapped up the blood.  It took a few licks but soon enough, Kestrel’s palm was clean.

It wasn’t enough.  He craved _more_.  Like a part of him was missing and he was hoping the blood would fill that gnawing void.  The blood _belonged_ to him.  It was his and his alone.  Next, he followed the trail of crimson droplets to the desk’s wooden surface, gathering those with his tongue too.  _More_.  Growing desperate for more, he searched on the floor and found the discarded dagger, carefully cleaning its blade free of blood.

“D-Dorian…?” Kestrel questioned, close but alarmed.

His attention shifted back to the elf, weapon still in his hand.  Everything Kestrel was belonged to him.  His blood, his will, his body.  And he needed more.  More than the few spaces that were between them.  He wanted to smother himself in Kestrel: taste every bit of him, draw more of his delicious blood, and bend his will to his own. 

Blade cast aside with a clatter, his grabbed Kestrel around his waist, twisted him around, and threw him against the desk.  With one hand his pressed against the elf’s back, pinning him down, his other yanked down his pants, exposing his ass.

Knee shoved between his legs, he forced them apart while he wedged himself in between.  He would take him right here and now.  After all, Kestrel was his for the taking.  He owned him - mind, body, and soul.

“Dorian!” Kestrel cried out, hands searching for purchase on the desk’s surface as he fought for leverage.

Why did he sound so desperate?  He should be rejoicing in the fact that he was needed by him.  Loosening the strings to his pants, he pulled his cock out, rubbing it over Kestrel’s bare ass.

“Dorian!  Please…please don’t do this.  _Ma vhenan_ , please…” cried Kestrel.

Kestrel’s sobs pulled at something within him.  Coupled with his precious term of endearment, Dorian used that as a lifeline and fought against the bloodlust haze that dampened his thoughts.  This wasn’t right.  No, this was _very_ wrong.

Feeling Dorian’s hold weaken, Kestrel heaved himself back, knocking him off balance enough to free himself and drop to the floor.  Scrambling on all fours, he rushed over to the fireplace and watched Dorian, eyes wide like a terrified, cornered halla.

What, in the Black Divine’s name, had he just done?  Had he just tried to rape Kestrel?  Oh, Maker, he was going to be sick.

Cupping a hand over his mouth, Dorian hurried to the bathroom and managed to double over the chamber pot before expelling the contents of his stomach.  He tried to ignore the red tinge to his bile.  Every time he thought he was done, another dry heave would rock his body, leaving him exhausted. 

He lost all sense of time but a part of him acknowledging that Kestrel had probably fled long ago.  He half expected guards to come thundering in to find him on his knees before the toilet.  It would be a fitting sight.

Draped over the porcelain pot and drained, his was unable to control his thoughts as they wandered.  How could he have attempted something so revolting?  He knew Kestrel had a troubled past when it came to sex, even though it had never been discussed.  It took a month before he wouldn’t flinch from a surprise touch.  Now he knew he had no future with Kestrel.  If the trust between them was in doubt before, he’d solidified that with his actions.  There was no recovering from his damaging actions.

He fought back against the tears that swelled up, blinking rapidly.  He blamed the stench from the bowl beneath him for the stinging in his eyes.  That was a safer assumption then the sudden feeling of loss he was experiencing.

“Dorian…?” asked a soft voice, just a few paces away.

He hadn’t left?  “You should stay back,” he croaked out, hiding his face in his perched arms.

A tentative hand brushed his back.  “ _Ma vhenan_ …” 

How could he sound so concerned after what just happened?

“It’s okay, Dorian.”

Okay?  How was any of this okay?  “…what?” was all he could manage, swallowing back another lurch of his stomach.  He couldn’t manage to look at him.  He’d rather face the reek of his own making then Kestrel right now.

“It’s fine, really.  I know sex can be…rough at times.  You just startled me and I overreacted.”

He always knew Kestrel was inexperienced when it came to sex but his understanding surpassed that and went straight to obscenely naïve.  The fact that he’d almost taken advantage of someone who didn’t even understand what was happening twisted his gut further.  Features contorted with disgust at himself, he spoke into the chamber pot, “What I almost did to you is rape, Kes.  It’s not excusable.  It’s not permissible in any situation.  To use someone against their will is unforgivable.  My actions were indefensible.”

“Oh…” Kestrel said, trailing off.  Dorian could almost hear him connecting his words to past memories as silence filled the small space between them.  It grew so quiet that Dorian began to wonder if Kestrel had finally decided to leave.  “Well, I don’t believe those were your actions, Dorian.  I think…I think it was the blood bond,” he finally spoke up, voice firm.

Too startled by the revelation, he shifted around, staring up at Kestrel who remained in the doorway.  “The blood bond?  But it’s not supposed to impact the caster.”

Frowning at something he noticed on his face, Kestrel retrieved a washcloth, poured some water in the wash basin, and submerged it.  As he waited for the water to soak through, he commented, “But you weren’t the caster.  You weren’t even one of the intended parties of the spell.  Maybe that’s why it’s impacting you negatively.”  He wrung out the wet fabric until it was no longer dripping and kneeled down in front of Dorian.  “You have some…”  He gestured with the cloth at his face.  “…in your mustache.  May I?”

Maker, he must look a mess.  He certainly felt it.  “Alright.  But if I make any sudden moves, you run and shout for a guard, understood?”  He still didn’t comprehend why Kestrel had remained after what he’d done.

“I trust you, Dorian.”  Now _that_ was a loaded statement.  Apparently, he could trust Dorian with his own wellbeing which he knew Kestrel didn’t value very high, but the safety of his Clan was another issue.  He kept his thoughts silent, though.  “You stopped yourself before and you’ll do it again if necessary.  We’ll solve this together.”  There was no hesitancy as he reached forward, running the cooled cloth over his face.  Kestrel didn’t understand how close he’d come.  If he hadn’t fought him in his one moment of indecision…He wasn’t deserving of someone as forgiving as Kestrel.  Closing his eyes, he couldn’t resist leaning into the soothing touch.

“You know, the distance I can be apart from you without getting a crippling headache is shrinking.  Are you sure you haven’t noticed anything different in the past few weeks?” Kestrel asked.

“…Besides feeling more attracted to you?” he blurted out, eyes opening with the sudden confession.  He caught a faint flush along Kestrel’s cheeks before his frown dispersed it.

“Isn’t that odd, though?  After all, we’ve been together for a several months now.  Why would you abruptly start to feel more attracted to me?”

“I thought…”  _I was falling in love with you_ , he continued in his thoughts.  After what just happened, maybe he was getting his feelings confused with the side effects of the spell.  Maybe those feelings he thought were love were closer to a desire to possess.  Either way, he corralled his tongue and said, “…it was due to our forced closeness.  And our narrow escape from the slavers.  Facing death together has been known to bring people closer.  Nothing more.”  For the second time today, he felt an almost overwhelming sense of loss.  Admitting his feelings may be nothing more than a fabrication of the spell was physically painful.

“Dorian?” Kestrel asked, sounding alarmed.

He tried to focus on the elf before him but found his vision blurry.  It took him a moment to realize his eyes were filled with tears again.  Blasted things.  Brushing the back of his hand over his eyes, he blinked away any remnants.  “Ah, the smell is getting to me,” he excused, struggling to his feet.

Kestrel hurried to help, bringing with him his sweet, alluring scent.  It overrode the acidic tang that hung in the air.

“No!” Dorian snapped, holding his arm between them.  “Please stay back, Kes.  I don’t trust myself with you.  I can’t.”  He squeezed past him in the tight space, hurrying out into the main room.  Finally, he felt like he had some space to breathe again.  “The sooner we can nullify this spell, the better.  Especially since we still are forced to remain in close proximity to one another.”  He knew he was rambling but, so long as his mind kept moving, he hoped it wouldn’t fixate on Kestrel.  Despite that, he was acutely aware of his location by the bathroom doorway.

Walking over to the love seat, he picked up one of the books he had pulled for research and began pacing back and forth, picking up where he had last left off.  He _felt_ when Kestrel moved over to his desk, trying to be as quiet as possible so as to not disturb him.  It took every ounce of his concentration not to track his movement with his eyes.  Instead he found himself reading the same line over and over again, too distracted to focus on the words.

“ _Kaffas_!” he cursed, snapping the book shut.  Having that small taste of his blood seemed to have made things exponentially worse.  He required concentration to figure out an appropriate spell but he knew he wouldn’t be able to accomplish that on his own.  He was in desperate need of help and he knew of only one mage who was so focused, he could literally slip into the Fade anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Think Dorian will keep it in his pants long enough to break the bond? ;)
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated it!


End file.
